


False Prince

by Newtexe (ArcMages)



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternative Universe - Kingdom, M/M, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2019-11-01 14:50:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17869301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArcMages/pseuds/Newtexe
Summary: In which Thomas is a prince who finds himself captivated by a particular castle guard who might be more than just a guard in both birthrights and heart.





	1. The Guard

A young man walked down the main hall gracefully, his posture straight and his hands by his sides. The bright crimson-red cape which hung from his shoulders swayed behind him delicately. His outfit consisted of simple white cloths sewn together with the utmost of care to make an elegant set of dress pants and a blazer. It contrasted with his jet-black hair which was pulled back professionally by his own self. On his lips, a slight smirk could be seen.

The aura he gave off was of pure pride. With guards surrounding him on all sides except for his front, he made his way towards the ballroom. More guards stood along the sides of the hall with maids, they bowed down upon his arrival. They all wore more a fancy, fashionable attire than usual for the special occasion in which the whole Kingdom of Glade would be celebrating tonight.

The young man stopped in his tracks in front of a pair grand golden doors before him. Two butlers in matching black dress suits stood on the sides of it.

"Welcome, Thomas. Your highness." Greeted a butler whom the young man was more familiar with than the other typical staff of the castle. He then bowed, and with another butler, unlatched the door and swung it open.

"Thank you, Alby." Thomas said. And with a nod to one of the guards by his side, he walked through the open doors alone. The guards who had accompanied him went on their separate ways to different halls.

The ballroom was quite grand. Broad, golden pillars separated the tall windows which were practically murals with the designs built in them. Multiple chandeliers hung from the ceiling which held up a various assortment chains of jewels and candles. They gave off a luminous vibe which fought off the night darkness stuck on the other side of the windows. The flooring was polished and smooth. The corners of the room were less illuminated.

And in this midst of royal scene, an abundance of people stood in a crowd, but not tightly together so there was still room to disperse. The women wore sumptuous dresses that typically went down to their heels, all in different colors and styles. On the other hand, the men all wore the same suits that either came in black or a navy blue. Some had their breast-pockets decorated with a flower which was a desperate attempt for individuality. White was reserved for the royalty in the Kingdom of Glade. Thomas was the only one in the room who wore the pure shade.

Thomas didn't even know most of these people who were practically all older than him. But it was clear the crowd was predominantly comprised of civilians who were of the upper class and could afford their way into the castle ballroom and fancy attire for this occasion. Some might've even come from more than halfway across the kingdom for this day. And it was unlikely that he'd even get a chance to acquaint himself with half of them. And it was possible, many of these people didn't even care for him. Perhaps they only came to make a statement of their wealth.

All heads were turned to him in silence. The chatter had come to a hush. Welcoming smiles greeted him.

Thomas held up a hand. "Welcome, everyone." he projected his voice. "Thank you for attending the once-in-a-lifetime celebration of my coming of age. As of today, I am 18-years-old and will be preparing to take my father's throne as my own in a few years time."

An applause erupted from all around the ballroom. 

"Tonight, let's dance!" Thomas ended off his short introduction. 

And with that, the live music started. Attendees either danced around the middle of the ballroom, took a taste of the food plated on the sides, or stood against the walls to converse. 

A familiar face immediately approached Thomas. And boy, was Thomas glad to see him.

"Minho." He greeted to the male.

"Thomas, I mean, your highness! This is pretty damn exciting isn't it? How're you feeling?" Minho asked. He wore the typical navy blue dress suit. Minho had a habit of being informal to nearly everyone he spoke to. Luckily, Thomas had warmed up to him rather quickly at a young age so it could easily be brushed off. But besides Minho being the exception, informal diction to royalty was highly frowned upon.

Minho came from a high class family which was on friendly terms with the royal family. He happened to be around the same age as Thomas, just a couple of years older. Because of these ties, Thomas had known Minho for his whole life. He hated to admit but Minho might've been his own true friend.

"It's overwhelming." Thomas let out quietly. He didn't want any other bystanders to overhear him talking in such way about the special day so he led his friend to the edge of the dessert table. "I'm not sure how to feel. I guess it's exciting but at the same time, scary."

"Yeah I totally get you there man." Minho shrugged. He looked out into the sea of people. After a couple of moments, he suggested to Thomas, "I know it's your celebration but how about we escape the ballroom and maybe take a walk outside?"

Honestly, Thomas felt more than glad that Minho brought on the idea. He felt burdened to look professional and grand in front of a bunch of strangers who just paid their way to get in here. Though he would definitely get in deep shit with his parents if he were caught leaving his own party, he decided it would be fun to take a little risk. After all, today he was officially 18-years-old and an adult. The king and queen weren't due to arrive until much later in the party so maybe just an hour or less outside would be okay to slip by. After a rigorous thought process, Thomas eventually agreed. 

The two then headed over to the end of the ballroom where the restroom was located. They entered through the door together and to their luck, no one else was in there. The restroom was quite large and spacious, so they would have to make their movements quick before anyone else stepped in and spotted them. They made their way to the opposite side of the restroom which lead to another door. 

Thomas exited first, then Minho. They walked down the hallway which had guards and maids standing on shift sparsely. Thomas nodded to each of them politely as he walked by. The halls were long, that took up a bit of their time before they had finally arrived to the castle garden doors. 

There was no way to completely avoid the eyes of castle staff. But at least, taking a side hallway instead of walking down the main one would bring on less attention and eye-witnesses. But there was a rule everyone knew in the castle about the garden. There, no guards or maids were allowed to be on premise. It was almost the perfect place to be alone.

The two let the warm night air swallow them as they stepped onto the path which branched out in multiple branches to different parts of the garden. The sound of crickets and night owls filled the empty void of human life. The complete opposite of the ballroom. They took the left path which presented a series of roses varying from yellow to red.

Minho let out a deep breath. "Away from all the people and their disgusting breath."

Thomas chuckled at the comment. Now that was something that could never leave past the lips of a prince. Oh, how he envied the commoners and their freedom to say what was on their mind. "Yes, it's quite nice."

After a short walk together, the path lead them to a gazebo which was decorated in vines that were tended to neatly. In it, a single bench was settled in the middle. The garden had three gazebos across it. Two of them were simply for decoration or shade. One of them located in the center of the garden along with the fountain was more for a romantic spot. Fortunately, this gazebo wasn't that special one.

But this gazebo wasn't empty. A dark figure stood beneath it's hood. The person's hands were rested on the fence of it, they seemed to be looking out at the rest of the garden. Half of the gazebo was concealed by the night shadow while the other was painted in the moonlight. The person stood in the dark part, they were looking out into the garden.

Assuming this person wasn't of any danger, Thomas stood on the steps of the gazebo. Only specially invited guests were allowed into the garden. This person stood alone, which made it somewhat suspicious. He knew it wasn't his sister, Teresa, nor his parents by their figure, so who could it be?

"Excuse me." Thomas interrupted the silence. Minho across from him at the gazebo entrance.

The person whipped their head around rapidly, as if in shock. They looked to be about his height but a bit shorter. "Oh, your highness!" The male voice spoke with an accent. "Forgive me. I understand I'm not supposed to be here."

"Show yourself." Thomas ordered. 

Hesitantly, the male stepped into the moonlit part of the gazebo. He had messy blonde hair and a skinny frame. And telling by his uniform, he was a castle guard. His features were quite attractive, to Thomas' surprise. Especially the large brown eyes. He had never seen this particular guard before, which wasn't anything peculiar since fresh guards were recruited frequently and the castle grounds were quite enormous.

Typically, Thomas would have ordered the guard to go back indoors and to their assigned post. But this time, he didn't bother to. Though he had no particular reason for being generous, he just felt the urge to get to know the young man a bit more. Perhaps it was his attractiveness that was casting a spell upon him.

"I'll let you stay outside for now. But when you make your way in, make sure no one catches you." He said. Minho shot him a confused look.

"It's alright. Thank you, your highness." The man said. He then exited the gazebo. But as he did, his captivated eyes locked in to Thomas' for a moment, stopping time briefly, before he passed and continued on his way down the path.

Thomas turned around and watched the guard go on his way. He hadn't even realize his lips had dropped open to a small part for a moment until he closed them. 

"Something wrong with that guy?" Minho asked. "Why are you watching him like that?"

"It's nothing." Thomas replied. He then stepped into the gazebo and rested his weight against the fence. It would only be for a a short amount of time he could stay here before having to head back. Minho joined in and smiled briefly in his direction before looking out into the garden. 

In the silence and peace, Thomas found himself lost in thought. He replayed that moment the guard and his eyes had caught each others in his head. But then he wondered why he couldn't get it out of his head. Sure, he had just met an attractive guard who was ditching his post. But what was so significant about it? And what itched at him most, was the feeling that the guard seemed to have some sort of significance to him. He had some sort of strong, mesmerizing aura.

It was then he realize that he hoped to meet the man again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg this is my first ever Newtmas fic and I've been wanting to contribute to the Maze Runner fandom for a while! I am writing this in celebration of the announcement by James Dasher of his new book #NEWT
> 
> Anyways I hope you guys enjoy!


	2. The Escort

Thomas and Minho had made it back a few minutes early before the king and queen were due to arrive. They slipped back in through the same path that they had taken to ease out. Which meant going through the bathroom and that was tremendously awkward considering there were actually people in there. But of course, they played it off as if they had returned from retrieving something.

Before heading back into the ballroom though, Thomas made a check in the mirror and ran a hand through his hair since the slight breeze from outside had put a few styled strands out of place. 

And it worked. Their little trip to ditch had been achieved with quite the unexpected ease. Minho had returned back to his family acting as if he had just stuffed himself with alcohol and food. His performance might've been a bit exaggerated but from where Thomas stood, near the closed grand hall doors, it seemed to have passed.

Thomas kept his hands together in front of him, making sure he didn't fidget since that was deemed unprofessional and childish. He felt a wave of awkwardness considering he was standing alone now, awaiting his own parents to arrive. And he appreciated every person who came up him to pass the time. 

Eventually, the music stopped and it was time. The room was quieted down and everyone stopped in their tracks, knowing that was coming next. The golden doors were opened as two butlers, including Alby, on each side pulled the handles with grace, revealing the king and queen who wore tremendously fancy outfits. Far more decorative than Thomas had ever imagined they'd arrive in to his own birthday celebration. So that must've been why they were locked in their rooms with the castle stylists or a whole day.

Everyone seemed to hold in their gasps of awe. But Thomas couldn't relate. After all, all he saw was his own parents and no one of any superior status. It then hit him that wasn't sure if he should bow or not. But surely, the rest of the room did. 

Acting quickly, Thomas decided not to bow. He made his way to the king and queen, his heeled shoes tapping on the concrete in the silence. Upon coming in close, he stood off to the side to make sure he did not block their radiant aura. He smiled at them for a cue. And possibly an indirect message saying that he wasn't sure what to do at the moment.

They nodded back at him. 

"Welcome, everyone. And thank you for attending the prince's coming-of-age celebration today..." The queen started.

As Thomas watched his mother speak, his eyes laid on what was behind her. Back into the grand hall, a familiar male stood a couple of inches from the wall. He looked directly in front of him, which was to the wall on the opposite side since the guards stood zigzag from each other, making his jawline visible. It was the guard who he and Minho had met in the garden, except he had his uniformed hat on. But then as if the guard had felt Thomas' gaze, his eyes shifted.

They made eye contact.

And in reaction, without Thomas' approval, his heart started to thump heavily in his chest. It was like the guard had some sort of spell-casting aura. One that didn't allow Thomas' eyes to look away. While this eye contact was brief, it felt like one burdening moment. The guard shifted his eyes back to the wall and away, in a professional way, not like he was embarrassed.

"And now, let's resume our celebration, shall we?" His mother ended off her short speech, bringing Thomas' attention back to what was at hand.

A cheer up-roared and glasses were raised. It was likely a good amount of the crowd was already drunk to start before the king and queen had arrived.  The music started again and people resumed their activities.

Thomas approached his parents closer and greeted them. 

His father's eyebrows were furrowed. He took a look behind him into the hallway briefly before speaking. "I saw you during your mother's speech. You were distracted. Is there is something that is more important than what she has to say?"

Thomas shook his head, shocked that his father had noticed such a thing that only happened for perhaps only a couple of seconds. "It's nothing. Forgive me."

"I better not see this happen again." His father responded, making his face back to calm and professional. "Now, go enjoy the party."

"Yes. Thank you." Thomas said and turned around to face the crowd in hopes of finding Minho, relieved that he didn't received any further scolding.

And surely, Minho came to the rescue. He approached Thomas with the usual enthusiasm presented in a pat of the back. "How about getting drinks?" He suggested. "And no more ditching."

Thomas agreed with a smile. He felt an urge to ask Minho about whether it was obvious he wasn't fully tuned in to his mother's speech but he figured that'd be for a later time. For now, it was time to enjoy himself.

The two made their way to the bar at the side of the ballroom. Being the prince, he got full service. He ordered Minho a special cocktail and one for himself. Together, they sat at the bar and conversed. Thomas soon forgot that his parents were still in the room by the time he had hit a couple of sips. Together, they laughed. Together, they ordered more and more drinks which came in an instant one after another. With everything they talked about, they forgot just moments after and shifted onto a new topic. It was a time of bliss. Thomas had disregarded how status and if people looked at him funny. He felt like any other normal young man having fun with a friend. And no one intruded their time, not until a couple of hour later.

Thomas didn't know how much time had passed since he and Minho had started drinking, nor did he know how many drinks he has had since then. He felt a light tap on his shoulder.

"Yeah?" Thomas said while still laughing a bit, he looked back at whoever needed his attention, which typically, touching the royalty was considered rude but it had just slipped past his mind. 

And to his surprise, it was the one particular guard with the fluffy blonde hair. He felt his heart come to a stop for a moment though he wasn't sure why. 

"Excuse me, Prince Thomas." The guard said. "I hate to interrupt your moment but I felt I had to point out how many drinks you've had so far." The look on his face was friendly, it lacked any sense of criticism. 

"Huh? How many?" Thomas asked, his words dragged a bit but he didn't even notice it.

"About 8." The guard said in a hushed voice. "My prince, I believe I should escort you to your room. The drinking is getting out of hand from what I see."

"But it's... It's my birthday y'know." Thomas responded, unsure of what he was even saying.

"Yeaaah!" Minho threw his fist in the air. "I think that-"

But Minho didn't finish his sentence for the guard had put a finger to his lips to hush him. And somehow, it had worked.

"Might I remind you that as a prince, you must keep your composure." The guard said. He then held out his hand to Thomas. "Now, please let me take you to your room. You need some rest."

Thomas' eyes scanned the room for a moment to see that some eyes were on him. He felt embarrassment wash over him. Had he really consumed 8 drinks? Was he drunk? Is this what it felt like to be drunk? He wondered where his parents were, if they saw him. Nervously playing along, he placed his hand into the guard's gloved one and slipped out from his seat.

"Minho, you come too if you can." He said.

Minho let out a rather loud laugh, "Alright! I got nothing else to do here alone anyways."

The guard raised a brow at him. "Come with me. And no more laughing if you will."

Minho shrugged and hopped out of his seat. But he did stop the laughter and the silly act as the two passed through the crowd, following the guard, to the grand doors which were open. A few people were heading down in that direction to leave the party and head home most likely so they weren't alone with a line of guards staring at them.

Thomas then took lead, switching places with the guard as they made their way down a series of halls and then finally to a flight of steps which would leave up to the bedrooms.

Upon arriving in front of his bedroom door, Thomas opened the door and Minho followed him in, flopping onto the bed. He looked off to the side, shamefully. He had proved himself to be irresponsible to a crowd of people and even a guard. That was embarrassing on another level.

"Thank you," he muttered. He couldn't bother to act any more formal.

"My prince. You have nothing to worry about, it wasn't too obvious." The guard replied. This 'it' he mentioned must've been about Thomas being mildly drunk. Luckily, no one else was in the hallway and his voice didn't echo.

Thomas trailed his eyes up to the guard's, looking into his doe eyes. Boy, was the guard a lot more handsome up close. It made him feel butterflies inside. "You sure about that..?"

And sincerely, the guard responded with, "Yes. Now, good night, your highness." He then bowed and turned his back to head in the opposite direction.

"Wait. What's your name?"

The words had slipped out from Thomas' mouth without a filter. And instantly, he regretted it. He hadn't meant to act friendly or at an equal status to the guard. That would be shamed upon if his parents saw. Which luckily, they didn't. But if they saw in drinking a ton... That would mean instant doom.

The guard turned around, a small smile on his face. "Newt," He said.

Newt's generosity and unjudgemental appearance gave Thomas a spark of hope. He felt that maybe, he was lucky to have been saved by this particular guard. God knows what would have happened if he hadn't stepped in responsibly even it was the butler's job to care for the prince.

"Thank you, Newt." Thomas said with a smile. Whether the smile was too big or just right, he wouldn't know. And with that, he shut the door and turned on the lights. He faced Minho who was on the bed, gaping at him.

"Holy shit, were you flirting with him?" Minho gasped. He was ... Half-joking.

A blush smeared across Thomas' features. He gave his friend a friendly punch in the arm, "The hell. Of course not." 

He then headed over to the vanity mirror where he wiped off his makeup and undid the extra accessories, a part of him that only Minho, his parents, and a couple of castle stylists have seen. He found himself daydreaming whilst gently rubbing the cotton ball on his cheekbone. He wondered if he really had flirted with the guard. He wasn't really sure what the meaning of flirting truly was since he had never done so himself. He never had the chance, nor the gut to do so. 

And thinking about it, he realized, that asking for Newt's name was the furthest he's ever done out of his own interest to another person.


	3. The Archer

Thomas had no plans today. At least, nothing of urgent importance. There was always the typical sword practice, archery, and meals to attend to but unlike on a weekday, he had no private lessons to attend to. Today was Saturday, his first day of being officially 18-years-old. But he didn't feel any older or mature. In fact, the only new privilege he's taken advantage of so far was drinking before the public for the first time.

And boy, did it take a toll.

Minho had fallen asleep right on the prince's bed so Thomas had found himself sprawled out on the floor when the morning light hit his face through the window by morning. The birds chirped from outside peacefully. When Thomas opened his eyes, blinking to adjust to the light, he noticed Minho was still unconscious on the bed.

He asked himself why he was on the floor and wondered why he thought it would be such a good idea to sleep on anything else besides a cushion. But it hurt to think. A heavy wave of pain sheered through his head as he pushed himself up into a sitting position. He drooped his head down, holding it for a moment. 

Was this what they called a hangover?

What a great way to start adulthood.

He let out a sigh and climbed onto his own feet, standing up slowly. His head felt like it was ready to fall off at any moment. His whole body felt tired and heavy. He let out a slight groan and made his way to the bed where he placed a hand onto Minho's arm. 

But Minho didn't budge. It was as if he was dead. But at least he was breathing. 

"What time is it..." Thomas muttered. He brought himself to the drawers where he checked the analog clock. After squinting for a good minute, he finally deciphered which hands were the hour versus minute. It was 12PM. 

12PM?! Thomas had never woken up so late. He never felt more relieved to have such an empty schedule today. 

It then hit him that he hadn't showered last night nor did he properly prepare himself for bed. His butler, Alby, had not knocked at his door earlier to wake him either. Or at least, he didn't hear it if the butler had come. Perhaps his parents knew he had gone a little too far with the drinks and gave him some slack for it. That'd be ideal but unrealistic. Hopefully they didn't. And hopefully, today was just a sleep-in day for him being an adult now.

Thomas made his way over to the walk-in closet where he grabbed an more casual outfit which was loose-fitting. To his luck, drunkard Thomas had remembered to at least change into pajamas before collapsing on the floor. He then stepped into the bathroom, which was quite spacious, and prepared for the day.

 

Upon arriving to the dining room, Alby greeted him with a bow. "Good morning, my prince."

"It's noon." Thomas replied. His head still throbbed. Alby was the only castle staff who Thomas spoke to more informally since they had known each other since being early teenagers when Alby was taken in by the castle to work as a butler whom Thomas was supposed to become familiar with considering they were close in age. He sat down at the long, dining table where a castle maid placed a plate brunch in front of him. It consisted of a breakfast sandwich and soup.

"You're right, my prince. However, 'good noon' sounds rather strange, doesn't it?" Alby said, his voice was calm.

"Yeah, I guess so." Thomas agreed. He took a bite of his sandwich. 

Alby took out a list from his pocket, as his did everyday, as listed out the activities which were due on Thomas' schedule for the day. He said that today was a rest day since it was the day following a tiring party but it was recommended to keep up the daily archery and piano practice sessions.

Thomas nodded along. Honestly, he felt that piano would be a stretch since his head hurting could have a negative impact on his ability to read sheet music. But archery sounded fine. Perhaps a breath of fresh air could clean out the headache.

After breakfast, Thomas went out to the garden doors with Alby by his side. As Thomas placed his hands on the door handle without even pressing down, they swung open. And there, he found himself face to face with the familiar blonde-haired guard. 

Suddenly, a rush of confusion came over him. Not because he had once again caught the same guard in the garden when he wasn't supposed to but because he felt like he was missing something. Something had happened with this guard at the party... Or was it after? He couldn't remember. His headache worsened, causing him to wince a bit.

"A guard coming from the garden? Have you been ditching your post?" Alby asked, stepping forward.

The guard hesitated for a moment before responding, "I must admit, yes I have been. I just needed a fresh breath of air. Forgive me, my prince."

"I have a duty to report the irresponsibility of the castle staff. Unfortunately,"

But Thomas cut Alby off with an "It's fine."

Alby rose a brow at him. "What do you mean, my prince?"

Thomas opened the garden door and stepped out, "Let's have him join us in our archery session. It's fine to need some air."

The guard smiled slightly at him and exited after Alby responded with a, "As you wish, my prince."

Thomas walked out in front with the two behind him following him. The weather was sunny and had little breeze, which was almost ideal for target practice. He made his way to the part of the garden where he often did his archery practice. A few targets were set up at different levels and placed in different spots. Some targets were out in the plain open, others were hidden in trees. He stepped into the hut where his archery materials were locked. He took out his custom bow and a few arrows. 

Thomas did archery mainly for sport and none else. Using a bow for defense or offense was considered outdated since now guns were a lot more powerful and convenient. Thomas never thought he'd have to use archery for actual combat but if he did, he praised it for being silent and stealthful.

Then stepping up onto the platform, he brought up the bow, pulled back the arrow, and focused on a target which was set out higher up. After a couple of seconds, he let out of his grip and sent the arrow flying. In an instant, it hit towards the middle of the target but off to the side of the bullseye.

He looked off to the side at Alby and the guard who were just watching him. The guard, who had his legs and arms crossed, commented, "Is that the best you can do?"

Thomas' bottom lip dropped opened at the guard's words. No one would have the gut to say such a thing to the prince. It threw him off but he secretly liked it.

"Excuse you!" Alby said in disgust. "Watch your mouth! This is the prince, do you understand that?"

Thomas held out the bow in front of him, ignoring Alby. "Oh? Is that a challenge?"

"It sure is." The guard smirked. "Do you accept it?"

"I do!" 

And with that, the guard stepped up onto the platform and took Thomas' place. With the bow and arrow now in his grasp, he held them up parallel to his face and pulled the arrow back. He closed one eye and focused for a couple of seconds before letting it go.

The arrow landed straight onto the border of the bullseye on the same target which Thomas had hit. The guard grinned at him, his doe eyes lit up in the sunlight. 

Thomas suddenly felt a pang of shyness. The guard was unnaturally charming to him. The way his fluffy, blonde hair stuck out from under the uniformed hat, his perfect facial features of youth and health. Thomas narrowed his eyes and swiped the bow from the guard. "Let it be a competition then! What's your name?"

The guard blinked at him a couple of times as if he was surprised by the question. His eyes then eased. "Newt," He said, "I'd be glad to be your opponent."

And with that, they stayed out in the garden until the afternoon hit. Newt used a spare bow which was found in the hut and they went on and off, taking turns hitting the furthest and most accurate they could. Alby kept score and when offered to shoot, he declined politely. 

The two went back and forth between winner and loser but it was clear, that Newt was, by far, the better archer. He hit consistently near the bullseye and even got it right on the dot once. Thomas' shots fluctuated which he felt was embarrassing.

Eventually, Minho came out from the blue, approaching the group, with his arms apart, "Yo, man! I slept for practically the whole day!" He stopped upon nearing the platform where Thomas and Newt stood. He squinted his eyes at the blonde. "Doesn't this guy look familiar?"

Thomas raised a brow at him, lowering down his bow. He shook his head. "I just met his today, just a guard who needed some fresh air." He hoped Minho kept his mouth shut about Newt ditching his post yesterday too. Hopefully, his friend didn't even remember. But there was something awfully familiar about Newt... Something besides when they had met in the garden yesterday night. But Thomas couldn't figure it out. He looked at Newt in hopes of getting any clues.

Newt looked back at him and cocked his head to the side a bit.

But there wasn't anything Thomas could recall. He turned his gaze back to Minho.

Minho shrugged it off and played along. How much he remembered, Thomas wished he could tell. But that would be for a later time. 

"Anyways," said Minho, "The king and queen said they wanted to talk to you. They came barging into your room and were baffled to see me snoring on the bed instead of their son." He let out a laugh. "I sure hope it isn't about last night. After all, it's totally reasonable to get drunk on your birthday right?"

Thomas let out a sigh. He didn't want to end his fun sport session with Newt but it couldn't be helped. "It better not be."

 The four then walked back into the castle, after packing away the equipment, where Newt parted away from the group and back to his post which had been abandoned for hours. The three then headed up the stairs and down the series of halls towards the chamber of the king and queen. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI to those who need a random fact : Sangster likes cheetos and madeleines for a snack :) #nopromo


	4. The Chef

The Queen dressed up everyday into a fancy dress from her collection of over a hundred. And never did she wear the same one twice in public. Today, no one in the royal family was due to have an event outside of the castle so she wore a simple sky blue gown. Which, when described it as simple, it still had an assortment of white bows and ribbons attached to it. Her hair was done into a neat bun at the back of her head and she wore simple gloves. The Queen never had a thing for showing her hands even, even to her own family. 

The afternoon orange sunlight leaking through the tall windows gilded the fixtures and swept across the floor. It pooled all around the room, giving off a magical vibe. Tapestries hung from the wall, composed of shapes and lines carefully put together especially for her. This was the Queen's room herself. She spent much of her time here alone where she did her paperwork and wrote letters. Though she only slept here after having a bad fight with the King. 

Thomas spotted her looking out of the window with both hands on her front. He knocked on the open door, "Thomas."

His mother turned around and smiled at him. She always had a gentle face, even when she shouldn't. This way, he could never tell what she was really thinking. She gestured him to the middle of the room.

He approached her but didn't stand close. Upon entering further into the spacious room, he looked around to notice that the King wasn't with her. He watched as his mother glided over to her desk and gracefully picked up a letter. She handed it to him. "It's from Teresa," she said. 

Thomas took the letter and unfolded it. His sister, Teresa, had been out for a meeting with a neighboring country. She was due to marry the prince of the Wick Kingdom. He wondered how she was doing, he wondered what she thought of Prince Galileo (named after the famous astronomer himself).

He read the letter carefully, word by word. It mentioned that she was doing well and due to arrive back within a few days. All was going well, she wrote. And apparently, she would be bringing "Gally" back with her to meet mother and father. She asked how her younger brother was doing.

Thomas felt at ease, seeing his name on the letter, in his sister's own handwriting. She was thinking of him. He handed the letter back to his mother. "Tell her," he said, "That I'm doing well and happy to finally be eighteen-years-old."

His mother nodded. She placed the letter back down on the desk which had neat stacks of paper on top. "How do you feel about being officially an adult now?" She asked.

"I don't... feel like an adult," Thomas replied honestly. "I guess it'll be after I start preparing to take father's throne. Or start going off to the foreign kingdoms without your accompaniment." Which, he did not feel ready for. The idea of dealing with foreign relations and having the whole alliance determined by his behavior was too intimidating to think about. He secretly considered the idea of Teresa ruling the kingdom as the Queen. Unfortunately, only men took the ruling throne in the Kingdom of Glade.

His mother let out a mature laugh. "I'm sure you'll be accompanied by your own sister on your first trip. Don't worry too much about it."

She then went back to the window. "Thomas," she started to switch the topic, "Do you know what I can see from this window?"

"The garden," he replied. He then figured it out. She wanted to talk about him and the guard arching together. But he felt ready to defend himself.

"That guard you were with," she said, "explain yourself." The thing about the Queen was that she allowed Thomas to give his own story before jumping to any conclusions or confront him about anything. Very much different from the King.

"I invited the guard to join me in archery practice," he then let out a slight laugh, "And honestly, he's more skilled at it than me."

"You looked like you were having fun," she pointed out. "Were you?"

"I was," he replied, "And I'm thinking about inviting him out again to perhaps teach me those skills." That was against the castle rules and he knew it. But he couldn't help it. He had been raised to only speak the truth to his parents. It came as a disadvantage at times.

His mother let out a sigh, "Thomas..." She then stepped closer to him, "You know why you can't do that."

He did. Castle Rule #14: No member of the royal family member is permitted to build a relation with any castle staff. This includes friendships, love affairs, and personal assistants. The only exception to this was the personal servant assigned to one at birth. In Thomas' case, that meant Alby.

"The reason the castle rule exists," his mother continued, "is to prevent any favoritism. Favoritism leads to envy. Envy leads to corruption."

Truth bomb dropped. And it hurt to hear. Thomas knew she was right but he didn't want to admit it to himself. He remembered when Teresa was younger, she had a favorite maid. This maid tended to her frequently at her request in secret. But when the King and Queen had found out, they had to let her off. 

"What if the castle was attacked?" Father had barked at Teresa as the tears flowed from her eyes. "In the midst of an emergency, you would be worried about her first, right? That would mean you're putting one over the lives of others. That is  _not_  allowed."

Thomas was too young to understand back then. Now, he did. Feeling at a loss, his mind scrambled for any excuses, refraining from using Newt's name. "This guard," he said, "Is excellent at the arts of archery. I want to learn from him. When I was younger, I had personal teachers. I felt attached to many of them. Of course, I felt more lonely when they had all left after the job was done, but their teachings still hold inside of me today." He took in a breath. "But I'm no longer a child. I'm an adult. So I believe, I should be able to wisely make the decisions for myself."

But deep inside, he knew it wasn't just that the man was skilled at archery that he defended himself. He liked the guard. There was something about Newt that he felt he could get along with him. And perhaps, make a second friend. He wanted to spend more time with him. But that would be completely his own secret. He hoped he had pulled off the act well enough.

The queen just looked at him. She seemed to be trying to make a decision. Eventually, she gave him a nod, "I understand. Just make sure to make good decisions, okay?"

He almost let out a sigh of relief. "I will," he promised.

"And... look out for your father," she added. 

Thomas knew this already. He was always wary around his father... except for last night when he had gotten drunk. But as an adult now, he felt that the King should be more lenient with him as he is with Teresa. But he still scolded at her for simple things such as her tomboyish behavior. "I will," he agreed.

And with that, he excused himself and left her room, closing the two doors behind him. He then headed down the empty hallway and clicked his heels together in a jump of excitement.

From there, he strolled along the hallways in search of Newt. But he walked as if he was just heading from one place to another. The castle was large, was it even possible to locate a single guard from the hundreds of hallways? Only one way to find out.

Along the way, he nodded at many guards who stood in the halls and maids who passed by. He couldn't hide the smile on his face. He was sure, when he asked Newt, he would agree with ease. After all, Newt didn't seem like he liked standing around as a guard anyways. 

A particular maid who passed by him smiled at him. But she wasn't exactly allowed to do that. Perhaps his smile was contagious. He then stopped her in her tracks and asked what she was doing.

"I work in the kitchen," she replied. "Would you like to know today's set dinner?"

"No no," Thomas replied quickly, "Actually... I'd like to help out. Do you make dinner for the overall castle staff also?"

She seemed surprised by his question, "Why, yes! We'll be starting in an hour."

Thomas thought of Newt. He wondered what the guards ate everyday. Maybe today, he could help out with dinner. ' _See?_ ' he thought, ' _It's more beneficial to be close to the castle staff, it seems._ '

"Allow me to help out," he told her.

She almost jumped. "B-But..." She didn't continue that sentence. And Thomas knew exactly what she as going to say: But you're the Prince, we serve you!

Instead, she said, "Absolutely! Follow me!"

And with that, the two made their way to the castle kitchen.

Thomas had only been in the castle kitchen perhaps twice in his life. It wasn't often he helped out make dinner, he had only come when he was younger when he was hungry for some sizzling food. Teresa had helped out here before though, she frequently joined the staff in the kitchen. In fact, they might've been the ones who taught her how to cook.

The kitchen was bustling neatly with staff who were only women, but there were a few chefs that were men. They all eyeballed him in shock, some of them had never gotten the chance to see him before. But quickly, they darted their eyes away to continue on their errands.

The maid took out a few ingredients, vegetables and seasoning, and set them out on the counter. "I'll show you how to make a simple vegetable soup."

The one he had eaten all his life? Was she the one who made that the whole time? Thomas wished he knew his castle staff better. He felt so oblivious to what was happening around him.

She then brought out different knives and cutting boards. "Different knives for different types of textures of what you're cutting," she explained.

Thomas listened to her intently and then copied the way she cut the vegetables, making sure not to mess up. But his slices were uneven and messy-looking. He had never cooked before. Not even cut vegetables. Not even picked them from the garden.

"My Prince!" A familiar voice called out from across the kitchen.

Thomas shot his head up to see Newt heading over to join him. He was still wearing the guard uniform, which meant he wasn't on shift. "Never seen you here before," Newt commented. He technically just gave away that he came here frequently.

"Just... wanted to try something new," Thomas replied. Of all places to find a guard, he never expected it would be the kitchen. And looking around, he didn't see any other guards off duty here. "Do you work as a chef here?" he asked.

This time, there wasn't any hesitation when Newt replied with, "Nope." He then added, "I just like to feed myself from time to time." It was a joke... sort of. Thomas could tell Newt liked to poke at the castle rules. Unfortunately, that would get him fired if he were to be reported. How long had Newt been slacking his position? And how did he get away with it?

It intrigued Thomas. And he found it a little badass. Badass for someone who barely ever broke the rules or dare to defy authority. In a sense, he was authority.

Thomas let out a snicker, "Understandable. Well, I actually wanted to ask you something." He put down the knife.

"Oh? What is it?" Newt asked. His dialect had become drastically more casual with each time they met, it seemed. He picked up a raw carrot slice from the cutting board and popped it into his mouth.

"How much do you like archery?" 

"Hm, I think a fairly decent amount. I am pretty proficient at it, aren't I."

Thomas felt wash of nervousness as he asked next, "Would you mind to show me your tactics? I would like to improve my skill." Internally, he begged Newt would agree.

And surely, he did. Newt rose a brow, "I'd be honored to, my Prince." The corner of his lips rose upwards. Perhaps an official excuse to ditch his post would be ideal for him after all.

Thomas couldn't help but to smile at that. He picked the knife back up, about to get back to cutting the vegetables. "Thank you. And trust me, you'll be permitted."

Newt took another knife from off the rack on the wall. Then, using the same cutting board as Thomas, he took some asparagus and started slicing it neatly in an efficient manner. "Like this," he said.

Surprised, Thomas then followed Newt's movements. "You can cook?" he asked. Then added, "Not that I'm doubting you or anything!"

"Well after seeing it so often I caught on. You see, I'm a fast learner." 

It was as if Newt was trying to get into trouble. Purposely trying not to hide that he did not preform his duties and boasting about himself right before the Prince. Thomas found it rather funny, he couldn't help but to giggle a bit.

An hour later, Thomas had a warm bowl of soups in hands. The water was clear and had a onion smell to it. It looked fine. But did it taste okay? Thomas didn't want to find out the hard way. Newt scooped a ladle into the pot and sipped straight from it. He then tossed the ladle into the sink, causing a loud clanging sound. 

"It's delicious, my prince," he said, "I think we can call it a success."

"Oh?" Thomas then took a sip from his bowl with a spoon. Newt was right. The flavor was strong and absolutely a masterpiece. For his first time cooking, he felt proud of himself. "You're right!"

Newt grinned. His eyes then shot to the clock on the wall. In response, he grabbed his uniformed hat from the counter and started to dart out of the kitchen. "Attendance rounds in five minutes!" he shouted as he ran out of sight.

It had happened so fast. Thomas giggled as he watched the guard disappear in attempt to make it to his post in five minutes. So Newt knew when the attendance would be taken at the posts. During the times when attendance wasn't being taken, he must've left his post. However, he would be screwed if attendance was taken at a randomly selected time. But it really didn't matter anymore.

Starting tomorrow, Newt would be excused from his duties as guard for a few hours and would spend time with Thomas working on archery. Thomas was then reminded that he had to tell the Head Guard that before Newt got into any trouble.

Thomas took the last sip of his soup, finishing off the bowl. He then left a note next to the pot, notifying that the rest was for anyone else hungry, and headed out of the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently in the process of writing the story to the finish but i'm nowhere close still haha.
> 
> The Kingdom names mentioned so far are Glade and Wick. Sort of cute, isn't it?


	5. The Villager

"Your grip— it's loose."

Thomas shifted his hold on the bow at Newt's words. His eyes traveled along the length of the riser, then to his fingers, wondering what he was doing wrong.

Newt crossed his arms beside him and cocked his head. "Did you even have an archery instructor when you were younger?" His tone was somewhat serious but also joking at the same time.

"Sort of," Thomas replied. "My instructor was also skilled in the many different sports he taught me. But he mainly did tennis." So technically, he was only taught the basics of everything and with the exception of tennis. Thomas was quite skilled at that one.

Newt shook his head as if in disappointment. But doing such was considered absolutely rude to any royalty. It meant that one was looking down on the highest status. Thomas didn't mind so much though it did catch him off guard a bit. 

"Alright," Newt said. "We have a lot of work to do, my prince." The way he spoke was far too casual to fit the 'my prince' at the end— it felt forced.

"You just call me Thomas," Thomas said to him.

"As you wish, Thomas," Newt said. Now that, was more relaxed. He then grabbed the bow by his side and held it up without any arrow input. "Now, follow me."

Thomas carefully examined Newt's straight posture. The edges he made with his arms and legs were straight and angled, it was perfect. He wondered why he had never been taught to disposition himself to that extent. He felt embarrassed, he figured that he must've looked quite sloppy while practicing for all of the other times until now. He copied Newt's position, adjusting his legs back and straight, his arms pulling back on the arrow.

Newt undid himself. "This should do 'till you've mastered just simply shooting with accuracy without needing it." He brought himself over to Thomas and inserted an arrow between his fingers. His touch traveled across Thomas' and adjusted them a bit.

Thomas winked, focusing his aim. Then released the arrow. It landed on the outer rim of the target with a  _thunk._

He brought down the bow and shook his head. "Maybe archery isn't for me."

Newt shrugged. "Old habits like to cling onto you. It'll take some time before you adjust. Don't worry about it."

Thomas looked at him. "You mentioned mastering accuracy without the posture," he said. "Are you able to do that?" He hoped Newt didn't take it as a challenge of some sort, he was genuinely curious.

Newt gave him a wink. He then brought up his bow with an arrow, held it up for a mere second, and shot it straight to the edge of the bullseye. He didn't even need to position himself in line to the target. Thomas gaped in surprise. He then started to laugh. "I hope you can teach me that."

"Y'know what would be useful?" Newt suggested. He then grabbed another arrow and shot it with a spin of his body. His feet shifted with elegance, just as an expert dancer would. The arrow landed right on the bullseye.

Now this had Thomas speechless. He pointed at the arrow, his lips parted, unsure of what to say. He couldn't believe what he had just saw. A true archery master, incorporating dance into the sport to make it an art. "You... no way!"

Newt grinned. "I know. Just a secret talent of mine. Perhaps I should take the place as the prince's figurehead," he joked.

"Yeah, honestly," Thomas remarked. But he wasn't sure even if he was joking or not just then.

Newt's eyes went up to the sky off in the distance. It was beginning to become a shade of orange and red. Thomas had to admit, the near sunset light on Newt's features was rather... gorgeous. "How about we wrap it up for now?" Newt suggested, indicating that it was getting late.

Thomas didn't want to. He wanted to spend more time outside to try the trick Newt had done. He wanted to spend more time with Newt in general. There was no schedule for their archery sessions yet so he didn't know if he would see him tomorrow or even the day after that. "Sure," he said and gave his bow to Alby, who was standing off on the side this whole time without giving any comment.

Newt put his own bow away, which made Thomas realize his own habit. While it was an excused habit, he suddenly felt embarrassed again. They then made their way back towards the castle where Thomas had nothing else left to do for his day. He wondered if he should call Minho over, who loved the taste of the castle food, for dinner. Or maybe write a letter to Teresa... if she was still in the Kingdom of Wick.

He made eye contact with Newt who turned his eyes to Alby. Thomas got the message. "Alby," he said. "Could you leave Newt and I for a moment? I would like to speak with him about his performance as a teacher."

"As you wish, my prince," Alby said and then entered into the castle.

Newt led Thomas to the gazebo, the one they had first met at on the night of Thomas' 18th birthday. He leaned his weight against the wooden rails. "How often do you go out?" he asked.

This question caught Thomas off guard. And it was a bit-insensitive. But he hated to admit that he didn't often leave the castle premises, only for foreign relations. He barely knew Glade's capital city, only read about it. And according to the King, it was thriving. "Not much..." he mumbled.

"Well then," Newt said. "How about I take you out?"

"Huh?" It wasn't against the castle rules for Thomas to leave but it was implied that he shouldn't. The Prince had no need to risk himself of danger anytime, anywhere. He remembered that even as a child, he barely went out. In fact, he'd barely seen any people besides the high class that paid to see him. And that was the only way Minho was able to meet him years ago.

"I'll take you out to see the city. As a guard undercover of course, but also just as a normal person. You'll be a normal person too," Newt said casually.

"How? That's impossible... I don't blend in with the common folk."

"Think about it," Newt said. "The public barely knows what you look like in real life since you barely go outside and show yourself. So with a simple makeover, you'll be a totally different person."

Thomas supposed it was true, that Newt was right about the public barely knowing him. But it was a harsh reality he didn't want to face. However, he could use it to his advantage. After all he was curious about the world outside of a castle, admittedly. 

And so, he decided to go along with it.

 

* * *

 

The process of sneaking out of the castle was quite tedious. The process started first with Thomas having to excuse himself for the rest of the day so no one would come after him since he was marked as unavailable. Then he had to excuse Newt from his guard duties himself, which was sort of awkward considering that it was clear to the head guard, Janson, that Thomas was specially choosing out a guard. But even the head guard couldn't defy the orders of the Prince.

Then Thomas had to run to his room where he changed into casual clothes out of the ridiculously limited selection he had. And especially, put on a cap that casted a shadow across his face. Newt also had to borrow some clothes, which were a bit larger in size, since being dressed as a castle guard would only draw attention to them. Out of habit, he was going to apply some makeup but instead tossed down the brushes. The public had only seen him with makeup on, he would be more unrecognizable without it. And with that, the two exited the castle through one of the side paths since going straight through the front would bring a lot of attention. They walked down the stone path until they got to a gate which was only watched by two guards. Thomas negotiated with them, and with ease, they decided to keep quiet about the Prince and a guard leaving the castle together.

It was about a five minute walk to the entrance of the capital city. Thomas almost felt as if he were blown away at the sight. The streets were made of different stones put together unevenly, many of the buildings were built of wood, an abundance of lively people were living out their lives peacefully with smiles on their faces. It was a small, yet thriving community. And awfully cute, the way the structures were organized and decorated. 

As they joined in with the people walking down the street, Thomas' eyes traveled around his surroundings. At the way the evening light perfectly soothed out the calming aesthetic of the town. The way everyone in town seemed to be friendly acquaintances with each other. He recalled a time when Minho had begged to take him out once but according to castle rules, royalty under the age of 18 couldn't leave without a guard accompaniment. Technically Newt was a guard but in this case, he was a completely normal man. Wait, didn't that make them—

"Tommy, over here," Newt's voice called.

Surprised at the nickname, Thomas shot his gaze to the blonde to find him standing at the door of what seemed to be a café from the display of sweets at the window. "T— Tommy?" he echoed, a bit flustered. Never had anyone call him that. Not even his own sister who called him 'Tom' on the occasion.

Newt smirked at Thomas' reaction though he didn't respond. He opened the door, allowing the Prince to enter inside first.

Then it came to Thomas that Newt had only called him such to prevent drawing any attention at the mentioning of the Prince's name. Though 'Tommy' wasn't exactly far off. The realization for some reason struck a bit of disappointment into him. He entered into the café with Newt following after him. 

Inside, a soft brown color coated the walls along with paintings sparsely lined up. A few healthy plants decorated the counters. Many customers sat alone at their tables writing in journals. Some even brought in their own canvas for painting. And telling by the way a couple smiled at each other, he figured they must've been on a date. The café smelled strongly of coffee beans— maybe a little too strong. Never had he seen coffee being made before, it was always served to him ready with the perfect amount of cream in it. And as much as he hated to admit it, he had never been in a café of Glade before. If he ever asked for coffee from Glade, it would be delivered to him within a good few minutes. Plus, who would ever think to challenge the quality of coffee from the castle?

Newt stepped up the counter and Thomas stood next to him. "A cappuccino, please," he said as he rose a finger to signal a one. The barista in response gave him a nod and got off to work immediately, grabbing a cup. Newt then faced Thomas as they stood in an empty spot at the counter. "It's on me," he said.

"You really don't have to," Thomas replied.

"Look." Newt rose a brow and grinned. "I'm getting this for you as a friend and none else."

 _'A friend'_. Those words smacked Thomas... in an affectionate way. He couldn't help but to dart his eyes away shyly. If Newt had meant it, then he would be Thomas' second friend ever. Of course, he would never admit it. But he begged inside that truly, they were friends and not just acting as the common folk to blend in. Which Thomas was horrible at. "I suppose if that's alright with you..."

Newt chuckled under his breath. As the coffee was placed in front of them, he slid the barista a couple of coins. Thomas' noticed a leaf design made of cream in the center of drink. This one, compared to the design served at the castle, was a bit lopsided.

"After you," Newt said. "Give it a shot." He encouragingly gestured towards the coffee.

Thomas wanted to tell Newt to take a sip first since he was the one who paid for it but stopped himself. He took the hot cup gently in his hands as brought it to his lips, taking in a sip. The creamy, rich flavor danced along his tongue for a brief moment until he brought it down. His lips parted in surprise. The taste lingered a bit after that. He shot his glance to Newt, bewildered. "This," he started, but couldn't get the rest of the words out.

Newt took the cup from the table and took a sip from it. In surprise, Thomas almost tried to stop him. But he remembered that in fact, he was the weird one for never drinking out of the same cup of his own family. It was deemed impure. So it came as surprise when Newt, without a moment of hesitation, drank out of the same cup as the Prince. 

"Well? What do you think of it?" Newt asked. He placed down the cup, back towards Thomas.

Thomas took the cup and before taking another sip, replied: "It's delicious!"

The blonde smiled at him. "Glad you like it."

Newt never questioned whether Thomas had ever tried it before. It seemed he already knew. It delighted Thomas a bit. That Newt simply took initiative without question.

Once they had finished off the coffee, Newt led him back outside. But the atmosphere had changed compared to when they were out earlier. A band was playing down the street. A fiddle's strings were being twiddled with by the bow. The thumping of a hollow drum sounded in a consistent beat. A crowd had gathered in a circle in the area. People were clapping in sync.

"Let's check it out," Newt said. He then darted down the street with Thomas following after him. He stopped at the crowd and jumped up to see what was going on in the wall. 

"What's going on?" Thomas asked as he stood next to Newt. He realized there was no way to make it to the other side of street unless if they were to cut through the ring of people.

"Dancing," Newt replied. "A blockade isn't going to stop us from continuing on our journey will it?"

No. Definitely not. Thomas did NOT want to turn back now. "Let's find a path behind the buildings?" he suggested.

Newt grabbed his hand. "Unfortunately, that's not happening. I hope you know how to dance."

A rush of nervousness consumed Thomas from bottom up. "Wait— Wait, you don't mean— No! I have no idea how to—"

"Just fly like a bird," Newt replied. And with that, he shoved through the crowd of people, dragging Thomas along and into the dancing circle.

Thomas had no idea what the hell Newt meant by that. But he had no other choice. Now in the middle of circle, he watched as Newt started dancing. All eyes were on him, people started to chant his name. With Newt's name filling Thomas' ears, he wondered just how popular the man was. It wouldn't be a surprise if he was some sort of celebrity in the capital.

Realizing that eyes were also on him, Thomas' whole face went hot. Newt took ahold on his hand and without warning, spun him around. It threw him off balance but he quickly recovered, having had practice for simple royalty behavior. Taking it as a boost, Thomas then threw his other hand out into the air, the other one gripping onto Newt's finger's tightly.

' _Just fly.'_

He skipped along the uneven surface of the street and locked his eyes with the blonde. Together, they spun around and kicked their feet into the air to the rhythm of the beat. Thomas felt a smile grow on his face. The hype from the audience and liveliness of the music entranced him. And together with Newt, he danced freely. 

_'Like a bird.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story might turn out longer than i expected. i have a few ideas for it that'll not only build their relationship but also cause conflicts.


	6. The Stargazer

That night, Thomas sat at his desk with layers of research papers piled up in front of him. He spun his feather inked pen in one hand, the other held his dazing head up. His eyes stared at the stars through the window, dazzling the night sky. He thought of Newt. He thought of the adventure they had today. At least, it was an adventure to Thomas, probably not for Newt.

Thomas couldn't focus on the work that lay before him. On the occasion, he would interrupt his thoughts with the reminder to get back to his work. But then he would slip right back into his daydreaming self.

Now, he was dressed in his more casual clothes for the night. The guard's outfit he had stolen— no,  _borrowed—_ was now back in the guard's room with Newt's assistance. The two had secretly climbed into Thomas' room from the side of the castle, taking advantage of the fact that there were no guards who watched the prince's room. That would be an awful invasion of privacy and far more than a felony to accidentally see the prince if he were undressing near the window. Newt had snuck out of the room with the guard's clothes and they haven't seen each other since.

Well, it had only been a few hours. It was unlikely Newt would come back to visit. That wouldn't only be risky but also beyond suspicious if anyone where to notice his peculiar patterns with the prince. . . Especially considering how every castle staff knew of his laid-back behavior on duty.

(Knock knock).

Thomas flinched. He immediately saw a hand tapping at the edge of the window. And somehow, he knew immediately who it was.

As if there was a critical emergency, Thomas hustled out from his place and opened the doors of the window. He was greeted by the sight of Newt sitting crouched on the balcony. He looked like a shadow, but the light leaking from Thomas' room made his features more evident. Especially the messy blonde hair.

"Newt!" Thomas loudly whispered. "What are you doing here?" He could feel his heart thumping wildly in his chest. The scene just seemed so . . . exhilarating.

Newt grinned. "My shift's over. I thought I'd pay my prince a visit."

The casual dialect threw Thomas off, as usual. Newt seemed to have a serious habit of doing this. And while it may seem to appear belittling, Thomas quite enjoyed it. He couldn't help but to smile. "Come in!" He said welcomingly.

"Actually I'm forbidden in your room, you should be well aware of this, my prince," Newt teased, well-knowing that he had been in Thomas' room earlier. He stood up and climbed over the rail of the balcony to the unprotected side. "I wanted to take you somewhere."

Thomas didn't hesitate to nod. He slipped on his shoes, the ones that didn't need a billion hours worth of laces and buckles, and hopped out onto the balcony. He watched in amazement as Newt climbed down the balcony and then gripped on the castle walls, hoisting himself down. 

"I can't do that," Thomas said, a little embarrassed. But as a prince, rock or wall climbing had never been a physical activity deemed necessary in his lessons.

"I'm well aware of that," Newt said. His voice had a hint of evil in it. He continued to lower himself further down the castle walls.

More than scared and nervous, Thomas forced himself to follow the guard. He cautiously climbed over the rail and used his feet to search for a ridge to place them. As he lowered himself down using the strength he had in his arms, he could feel his limbs shaking. If he dropped from this height, he could end up with a fracture or a broken leg. And he would have no way to explain the accident to his parents.

Newt was now standing on the grass below Thomas. He crossed his arms, smirking as he watched the prince struggle to come down. "If you fall, I can't catch you."

"Oh, how funny, I thought guards were supposed to be trained to have even a little bit of physical strength," Thomas shot back. Just then, his retaliating words had come to his own realization. They had escaped out his mouth before he could filter them.

But Newt didn't react in any sort of negative way. He just let out a laugh. This made Thomas feel better about what he had said, and once again focused on carefully lowering himself down the wall. Soon enough, he jumped off and landed down on the grass silently.

Newt placed a finger on his lips and gestured Thomas to follow him. They stealthily made their across the grass field and to an exit of the gate that surrounded the castle grounds. Another guard stood there. It was difficult to see his face. All of them were practically shadows in this area. The guard stopped the two. "Where do you think you're going? Who is this with you?" he asked Newt.

Newt stepped closer to the guard. "This is Newt. With me is an important escort. Allow me to pass through."

Thomas studied the guard's face— it appeared to be wary. But to his surprise, they were let through. As he and Newt passed, Thomas began to heavily question the guards of this castle. As so, as they walked through more of the field outside of the castle grounds, Thomas asked Newt, "Tell me the truth. Do the guards here do their job?"

Newt let out a laugh. He seemed to find this quite hilarious. "Of course they do. I just had special privileges because you were with me. That's all."

Believable. But not at the same time. But Thomas still trusted this guard, so he took the answer for it's word.

Soon enough, they arrived at the top of a small hill. Up there, they had a clear view of the night sky and the dark landscape before them. But since it was dark, Thomas couldn't make out much of the land. All he saw were trees in the distance. He tried to look harder. Sightseeing was more of a daytime activity.

But that wasn't the point. Newt nudged him and directed his gaze upwards. Thomas looked up at the sky, filled with glittering stars. And due to the lack of light pollution around the area, they illuminated the night sky far more than what he could see from the garden or his room balcony.

The scenery was more than beautiful.

Thomas' breath felt stolen. His eyes traced the constellations he could make out within the clusters of stars. They traveled through the maze, until they met with Newt's peaceful face looking out onto the sky.

Newt's eyes reflected off the lights, they glittered gorgeously. That sparked a feeling in Thomas' chest. A feeling that glued his eyes onto Newt's, wanting to stare into the deep sea forever. A feeling developing within him made him unconsciously draw closer towards the guard like a magnet. The sound of chirping crickets and hooting owls filled the background. But all Thomas could really hear was the sound of his heart thumping wildly in his chest.

Newt noticed this. He turned his gaze to Thomas, catching the prince off guard with a smeared blush on his features. This caused a smile from Newt. He carefully leaned in closer too and placed a gentle hand on the other male's cheek. There was a moment of tension and Thomas could tell Newt was rather enjoying it. There was no way either of the two could make a move without consequence.

But Newt wasn't the type to hold back.

"My prince. . ," Newt whispered before laying his lips onto Thomas', capturing him into a kiss.

Thomas couldn't resist it. The situation felt so romantic, something he had never got the chance to experience before. Deep down, his obedient self told him to break the kiss, that having an affair with a guard would be an extreme felony towards Newt and it would stain Thomas' royal appearance. But truly, his heart desired to break these rules. Newt's kiss was too bewitching— it had such a hypnotizing vibe to it. Thomas couldn't pull away, he wanted more. He wanted —

Then Newt separated their lips, breaking the trance Thomas had been living. Thomas felt a powerful urge to kiss Newt once more but he didn't have the impulse to do it. If he had been trained to do anything in his life, it was to maintain himself.

Their eyes locked, Thomas could see Newt's smirk on his half-shadowed face. He was so beautiful. How could a simple guard have so much of an effect on him?

"Newt," Thomas whispered hesitantly. "What does. . . this mean?" The kiss. Was it out of love? Lust? Admiration? Or was it all a trick?

Newt didn't answer that. He instead checked his watch and said. "It's awfully late, my prince. Let's head back, shall we?"

His words, 'my prince' never felt genuine. In fact, the tone seemed rather contradicting. How many times had this gone through Thomas' head? And yet, how many times has Thomas pushed it out and followed this guard around? Oh, how he wish Newt would just answer his question. He wanted to know the truth. Were they on a higher level than royalty and staff?

But Thomas just nodded without saying anything more.

Along the way back, the two didn't say anything to each other. And the last words they exchanged were 'goodnight''s back at Thomas' room window. The prince watched Newt disappear from sight, climbing down from the balcony. He then closed the window doors and threw his body onto the bed.

Too many emotions were aroused in Thomas— from admiration to betrayal. But mostly confusion. A type of confusion that had him on edge for the rest of the night. He couldn't sleep properly, tossing and turning on his sheets. His mind kept wandering, replaying the kiss over and over again. He wondered what would've happened if he had tried to go further, if he had confessed the feelings enveloping in him.

Love. That was what he was feeling.

But for some reason, he had a string of doubt about Newt. His love for Newt felt too unreal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this chapter was written so horribly... it's also a lot shorter than the other ones.


End file.
